Everybody Lies
by EvilKath
Summary: A talk with Wilson makes House think about Cameron. Will he give himself a chance to live and love again? Oneshot. HouseCameron


**A/N: Another one-shot about Greg House. Yes, I decided not to continue the last one. However, I enjoyed writing "Glass Walls" so here I am once again. Read and Review. Tell me if you like it, tell me if you hate it. Basically tell me whatever you want.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own House, I never did and I never will, which actually makes me kind of miserable. **

_"Everybody Lies"_

"Are you interested in Cameron?" Wilson looks curiously at House. They are sitting in Wilson's office, seemingly enjoying another lonely evening. Two single friends for whom there is no one waiting at home. Or in the hotel room.

"You mean if I love her with all my fragile and sensitive heart? Oh yes… the thought of her keeps me up at night.". A sarcastic remark. Like always.

"I assume you mean 'No' then…" Wilson suspends his voice. He is used to his friend's statements. He is used to the fact he rarely says what he really means, at least as far as it comes to his feelings.

"I assume you assume well. Does this ridiculous conversation have an actual point?" House seems annoyed… which is interesting since usually it's hard to provoke him… That's why Wilson keeps going, curious how far he can push before it breaks...

"I wanted to ask whether it would be ok with you if _I_ asked her out." As soon as the words leave his mouth he knows what the answer will be. He also knows it will be an utter lie. They have been friends for far too long for him not to read Greg's subtle body language.

He observes how House stiffens hearing his question. He sees how he starts playing with his cane. Wilson knows he hit the right spot.

"If you're turned on by teenage cheerleaders, then go ahead" the muttered answer reaches Wilson's ears and he smiles in response.

"She's not a teenager"

"Half my age" a low growl says much more than House would want to admit, even to himself.

_She's much too young for you… you will only hurt her. _

But Wilson doesn't want to leave it like that. "I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about myself, and I'm somewhat younger than you are." He observes every slight change in Greg's expression, every twitch of his suddenly tensed muscles.

"Not _that_ much younger."

"Then you don't want me to take her on a date?" A teasing smile stretches the corner of Wilson's lips.

"Do what you want. Her standards lack, so you may even have a chance."

"Lack?" Wilson ignores the not-so-well hidden insult. "Because she wanted _you_ to go out with her?"

The only answer is silence. So he starts again. "I think I might call her tonight"

House feels suddenly tired. "Can we please change the subject? You're boring..."

_Why is he so irritated?_

He exhales loudly "I've got an idea, take her for a dinner, then to your hotel room and after that send me a video tape of your hot night. I've already have one from Chase, which leaves now only you and Foreman. I do hope she's got a thing for big black men. It will make it so much easier" but his joke can't cover the bitterness which crept into his voice.

"And what about you? What will _you_ do? Go home? Call for a hooker?" Wilson is serious this time, obviously concerned.

"Yep, another exciting evening for Dr Gregory House. Just can't wait…. Although these hookers nowadays… they are not what they used to be. I like to blame Pretty Woman for this." He sounds irritated. Why does Wilson have to keep on lecturing him all the time?

"Somehow I find it hard to believe they would confuse you for Richard Gere."

"I don't pay them for reality. I pay for a _fantasy_. And getting laid of course"

"So you have sex with them and fantasize about _someone else_?"

"Shhh, keep your voice down, I don't want them to think I'm cheating on them." House dry swallows two pills of Vicodin. Maybe it will help for his headache.

"Right."

"So…are we done? I so heart our midnight confessions." Greg asks mockingly.

After a moment Wilson decides to make one final strike "You know her number?"

"Whose?" asks House, although he already knows who his friend is talking about.

"Cameron's…I wanted to call her… Well, forget it, I'll invite her for a dinner tomorrow, when she comes to work."

"So you really want to do this?" surprisingly House sounds defeated.

"Why not? She's hot… and I'm running out of nurses."

House breathes in loudly. All of a sudden he feels an urge to go out and have some fresh air. He stands up, ignoring the pain in his leg. Vicodin still hasn't kicked in but it will soon. "I'm going home"

"I thought we would eat dinner together" Wilson is disappointed. He knows he went too far. His friend once again hid inside his shell… probably he has never left it.

"Maybe next time, I'm tired." With these words House walks out of the room.

_Well, Wilson is known for having very short affairs, maybe this will be just another one night stand. Maybe Cameron won't even agree on a date. _

_Maybe they will live happily ever after, have five children. Maybe they will call one of them Gregory. _

A wave of a sudden nausea takes over him. Side effect of Vicodin, he's sure… It happened before.

An image of pregnant Cameron walking into his office flashes before his eyes. Her tinkling laughter as she's talking to her youngest daughter resounds in his ears. He even sees her sparkling eyes looking at Wilson, eyes filled with promises of passion and desire.

Greg House takes the phone out of his pocket.

His fingers hesitate before he finally dials the number.

Two signals… three… and someone picks up. A young female voice asks for details and the address.

Gregory House takes a taxi home. By the time he will reach his apartment, she'll be there. His substitute for the perfect woman he won't let himself have. A substitute, which will make him forget about _her_, even if only for this one flash of a total release.

He makes himself believe it doesn't matter… _she_ doesn't matter.

_Everybody lies _

He tries to block images of _her_ as he enters his bedroom followed by the _substitute_.

He tries to concentrate on the gentle and well-trained fingers caressing his body.

He tries to convince himself that the name he moans in the final moment isn't _her _name.

_Everybody lies. _

Gregory House goes to sleep _not_ wishing to feel _her_ arms wrapped around him, _not_ wishing to smell the gentle scent of _her_ perfumes, _not_ wishing to wake up in _her_ embrace.

_Everybody lies._

_Sometimes they lie to themselves. _


End file.
